


Kingsmen Tack and Saddle

by Zinfandel



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Dragon AU, M/M, Magic and Science, dragon!eggsy, loosely based around the beginning of the movie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 10:01:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5044009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zinfandel/pseuds/Zinfandel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Hart is a Dragon Handler, Eggsy is a dragon with no master and nothing to his name besides a favor owed for the life of his father.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kingsmen Tack and Saddle

**Author's Note:**

> yo, so i saw some post on the tumbles about Dragon!Eggsy and i just...LOVED IT OK?! This story isn't based around that plot at all, i just started writing and didn't stop. 
> 
> Not beta'd or even proof read, really. And this is all i wrote of it. I'm very terrible at continuing my ideas, but i kind of really want to continue this. I don't wanna follow the movie plot much, but just a bit, but i don't even really have a plot imagined yet. Got any ideas?

When he meets him, he hates him. Eggsy expects the feeling is mutual.

Their first encounter is among the gargoyles peppering the sky scraping roof of a downtown building. Eggsy is perched, hissing atop the stone beast’s wings, his claws gripping and crumbling the rock as ‘Mr. Hart’ edges nearer to him, black _dragon leather_ gloved hands up in a gesture of a calm I-mean-no-harm manner.

“My liege…” Harry mutters, trying to placate him, but Eggsy won’t have it. He doesn’t bless him with his voice, merely rumbles and smoke drifts menacingly from his snout.

Eggsy doesn’t know who he is, how he got here, up this high, but he knows humans are bad news, and humans wearing dragon leather are even worse. One does not simply own dragon gloves, oh-ho no, one kills for a hide such as Eggsy’s, and Eggsy’s snarl seems to clue the man in on this fact as Eggsy’s serpentine eyes then narrow on his hands.

Mr. Hart’s expressions hardens and he frowns, it almost looks like he’s regretting his actions, but he stands up straight and drops his hands and begins to pull the gloves from his fingers. Eggsy pauses.

“My apologies,” Hart says and stows his gloves in his greatcoat pockets. “They were a gift, from a dear friend. I am not a poacher, I am here to offer you some-”

But eggsy doesn’t hear the rest as he leaps from the edge and rolls down the glass of the building, using the metal to twist and pull himself into flight, his wings unfurling and catching heated updrafts of the city streets below.

…

The second time they met, Hart saved his life, and Eggsy learned this was in fact the third time they have met, for Harry Hart was the one who killed his father and wore his hide upon his hands.

Eggsy was near spitting molten fire when he learned this and regretted his unfortunate luck.

He had been captured by the magical law enforcement after making a bad decision to melt Rottweiler's stupid ass new magic vehicle. Having to be in his scales to do so landed him in the worst situation of his as of yet young life, because being picked up by the scum looking as one of them was one thing and he could deal with it, being subdued and chained as a beast was an entirely different one.

They’d ship him to labor camps, or magi-science universities for study, or even worse, throw him in magical prison where a young dragon with no sire or territory to his name would be well taken advantage of.  

Instead, he used the favored owed his father that dangled around his neck and found himself walking out of the holding barracks led by leash and collar by the man he dismissed not a month prior.

He was right baffled, but suitably cowed with a fed-necklace on, so that he silently shuffled behind Hart till he was led to the curb where a large and ominous van awaited them. Harry led him to the rear of it and opened the double doors to an open and stupidly posh interior. It was a transport van, for creatures like him. The floor was wood with a plush rug on top and pillows lined the cabin.

Hart tugged on Eggsy’s leash and eggsy huffed a snort and climbed into the van so that Harry could shut him in. Soon, Harry joined him in the back and the chauffeur engaged the engine and drove off.

“Now, let’s get this off you, shall we?” Harry opened with and pulled a tool kit from his breast pocket.

“Who are you?” Eggsy asked warily instead?

“A little gratitude would be nice, I am the one who got you released.” Harry said looking down as he unrolled his tools.

“Doesn’t answer the question.”

“Harry Hart. I knew your father.”

Eggsy lifted his head, intrigued and mildly alarmed, his wings fluffing up a bit and settling back, agitated. “My father?”

“Yes, he saved my life at the great cost of his own.” Harry said and eyes the collar around Eggsy’s long neck. After a moment of thought, Harry pulled out his dragon-skin gloves and put them on before trying to approach Eggsy with his tools. “Now if you would hold still…”

The dragon raised up to his elbows instead and reeled back at the sight of the gloves.

Harry seemed to catch on faster than last time and looked down at his hands. “They’re just a precaution,” he tried to reassure. “In fact, they are made from Lee of the Unwin’s wings-”

“ _Poacher_!” Eggsy immediately hissed and heat flooded his throat and he reared up, wings hitting the walls of the van and the whole vehicle rocking. His tail thrashed and dented the metal, the driver let out a concerned yelp.

“Eggsy!” Harry raised his voice and braced himself against the wall and his tools clattered everywhere. “Calm down, I’m no such-”

“Let me _out_!” Eggsy screeched instead and tried to twist in the tight space to scrabble for the rear doors.

“Don’t make me subdue you!” Harry called and got to his knees, pulling his left glove back off, the back of his hand starting to glow green as symbols lit up in his veins.

Eggsy stopped scrambling almost comically fast when his eyes caught the light and his wings shuttered in close to his body which he pressed firmly against the far wall of the van. He wasn’t a large breed of beast, most certainly but at the moment he’d give anything to be a smaller one.

“Jesus fuck-” Eggsy muttered, his words frail in his surprise, his anger and self-defense deserting him at the even worse revelation. “You’re a Handler.”

With the dragon’s rampage sufficiently quelled, Harry sat back down on a cushion and put the glove back over his hand. “Something like that. Now, that probation collar…” Harry made to scoot over to Eggsy, Eggsy only hissed.

It did get Harry to pause, but his eyes narrowed in speculation. Eggsy spoke before Hart could come to any conclusions. “Nuh-uh. You ain’t getting anywhere near me.”

“It’s only to get the collar off I assure you.”

“I ain’t assured of nothin’”

“Eggsy…”

“You’re wearin’ my dad for christ sake!”

“Yes, and you’re still hot enough to be glowing. If you keep this up, the collar will melt to your scales and the police will be all over us. Now if you please, stop with the dramatics. I told you once the gloves were gifted to me, they were given by your father, upon his death.”

Eggsy took a moment to let Harry’s words absorb, and then sighed in resignation, lowering his head to the rug and stretching out his neck.

“Fine, but just the collar. No funny business, Handler.”

Harry shuffled closer and soon got to work, prying the metal apart to get to the magical workings inside. It took a few moments of silence, Eggsy closed his eyes and concentrated on his fire and breathing willing it to calm and cool.

Soon, he began to relax as Harry picked at the circuits and runes with his tools. His wings flopped open and he rolled a bit to his side, letting his legs sprawl out and un-tense.

It was quiet as the van drove and eggsy idly noted that the van must be soundproofed for maximum creature comfort, he supposed. He felt his lips curl up into a small grin at the thought. It was all very posh of Harry Hart, the Handler, to have an unmarked magical creature transport van.

After ten minutes Eggsy felt Harry shift beside him and then a cool gloved hand smoothed down his neck and around it. Eggsy’s eyes flew open and the next thing he knew, Harry was sitting back with the collar in his hands, raised to show he meant no harm. Eggsy didn’t even have time to growl at the liberty Harry took in touching him before the man backed off.

“You are a rare breed, Eggsy.” Harry said instead, changing the subject.

“Fucking tell me about it.” Eggsy scoffed.

“Made for stealth and speed. So much potential, and yet you have no territory, no sires or pages to your name, no vocation, no future. I think your father would mourn your choices-”

“You know fuck all what my father would mourn.” Eggsy spits, as much venom in his voice as he could muster, his hackles raising back up, his wings drawn back in tight. “You have no right to speak to me that way. You think you can sit up there in your ivory tower and judge me and my ‘choices’, you know fuck all of the choices i’ve had to make to survive and protect whats mine. You know fuck all about the territory i’ll never have and the sires that try and force themselves on me and my family. Pages are for posh wankers with silver spells so far up their arses they’re choking on sparks and i’ll have nothing to do with it-”

“I want to offer you that.” Harry cuts him off sharply.

Eggsy spits and huffs, and looks out the tinted back windows, gauging his escape plans. “Bullshit.”

“Territory, Pages, Sires if you want them, even mates. A haven.” Harry continues and Eggsy narrows his eyes.

“You’re full of it, you are.” Eggsy hisses.

Harry sighs and sits back, resigned. He gestures to the back doors. “Fine. You are free to go, now that you aren’t leashed. But, if you change your mind i’ll be at Kingsmen Tack and Saddle on Saville Row.”

Eggsy snorts derisively before twisting and unlatching the back doors of the  moving vehicle and tumbling out into the air, his wings snapping open as he flies off.

 


End file.
